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Hatred

10/15/2024

 
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I recently completed a 7-day meditation course called OSHO No Mind. It involved one hour of Gibberish followed by one hour of sitting in silence each day. You can find more detailed explanations of these practices online, but after some initial resistance on the first day, I gradually settled into the process. By day three, I was having profound insights and uncovering deep, elemental forces within my consciousness.

The image I've created is my first attempt at expressing what I experienced during this journey. One day, just before the silent sitting, an OSHO quote was played. What I remember most was the comparison of thoughts to a river—specifically, a muddy river full of debris and churning currents. My only task, OSHO said, was to observe the river as it flowed. While there’s a temptation to "help" by settling the silt or pushing aside floating debris, OSHO’s laughter echoed in my mind: The more you try to fix it, the more you stir it up. Just watch! Meditation is just watching.

It was both lovely and unsettling. After all, what do you do when the river you're watching feels more like a lava flow—bubbling, angry, and hot? I began to imagine all of that ugliness flowing out from the depths of my subconscious, revealing something darker beneath the surface. The black, sticky source of it all? My judgement. There is no hatred without judgement.
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Am I hateful? I don’t see myself that way. Yet, as uncomfortable as it was to admit, I discovered I am both judgemental and harboring hidden hatred—far beyond the layers of delusion I had wrapped around myself. I rarely allow myself to even speak about hatred, let alone claim it. I frequently talk about expectations and judgements, but I had always aimed those critiques outward. Now, I realize the first place I direct them is inward.
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And yet, with all of this swirling within me, there is nothing to fix. My only job is to watch, observe, witness, and let go. I find gratitude in being where I am now, in this position of stillness and awareness, with the ability to let go of control. Many thanks to the disturbing, taboo, and clear insights that have emerged.
Lisa
10/16/2024 07:01:04 am

I love this and the art. It reminds me so much of when I was a kid and I picked at a wound until it became infected and festered. If I left it alone and let my body heal it, it would. I love the art, it really connected to me. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.


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